Our Fate
by Writer of Lies
Summary: When Blaine Anderson loses Kurt, the most important person in his life, his personality changes drastically. But what if fate decides to bring them back together? What if Kurt can't even remember who he was before? ON A VERY LONG-TERM HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1: Blaine and Santana

_**A/N:**_ Sooo... -silence- I'M SO SORRY, GUYS! MY MUSE WAS RUNNING EVERYWHERE AND I COULDN'T STOP IT! (Read author's note at the end to continue).

Anyway, that said, go ahead.

_**Disclaimer:**_ Nooooooot mineeeee :)

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 1: Blaine and Santana<strong>_

_"Happy Birthday, love!"_

_"Didn't I tell you not to get me anything?" _

_"Yes, but you knew I wasn't going to listen anyway."_

_"Kurt—"_

_"Sweetheart, relax. I didn't do a lot, I swear."_

_"Well... Okay... I love you, Kurt."_

_"I love you, Blaine. Happy Birthday, dear."_

"Hiding again?"

Blaine turned around as he heard the voice and he arched an eyebrow as he beckoned her to join him silently.

She walked forward, her bloody red gown flowing slightly in the wind.

"I hate these things." She muttered as she took the pins that had bind her hair together tightly. She shook her head and let her brown locks down her shoulder.

Blaine turned back around and leaned forward, his hands gripping the railing of the balcony loosely.

"Aren't you suppose to be in there, enjoying your party?" She said as she closed her eyes and leaned forward, breathing the night air of England deeply.

"No," He said curtly.

After a moment of silence, the young woman turned to him and said.

"How are you?"

Blaine was momentarily taken aback. He wasn't expecting that question to come out of her mouth. He wasn't expecting that tone of kindness from her either.

"Fine," He said, his cool demeanor coming back.

"That's bullshit and you know that." She snapped, her eyes brightening with fire.

"Well, what the hell do you expect me to say, Santana?" He snapped back, his hazel eyes darkening with anger.

They stared at each other, their eyes alight with fire before Santana sighed quietly, closed her eyes, and looked away.

"They're still alive, you know?" She said quietly, almost inaudible.

"How would you know?" He said, almost as quiet. But his voice held a cold, firm, and low tone.

"I just… know."

Blaine didn't answer back, choosing instead to ignore her in favor of feeling the cold chilly air. For once he felt numb and he cherished the feeling, tired of the other emotions he so was used to feeling every moment of his life without his love.

They both stood there, shivering slightly as a heavy breeze blew by. One's thoughts were about forgetting and the other's about remembering.

The silence was easily shattered as heavy footsteps echoed on the balcony's floor.

"What are you both doing in here?" Marcus Anderson said as he stepped closer to his son and one of his many close friends.

Santana and Blaine looked at each other, silently agreeing on not telling what had happened just minutes ago.

"Nothing," Blaine answered instead as he looked over his shoulder to his father, smiling falsely.

His father frowned, noticing his fake smile. It had been like this ever since the event that had happened almost two years ago, but he had been hoping that his son would at least heal some of his wounds. He knew how strong their love for each other was and it was only expected that one would be deeply hurt if the other was lost. But he was still hoping that his son would at least try, if not for his friends and family, then for Kurt.

If anything, his son's heart had gone cold and cruel. It was no longer warm and kind but the polar opposite. Marcus was beginning to think that Blaine had been losing hope in ever finding Kurt, and the thought made him frown deeper. But he knew in some part of that stone heart, hope had not been lost.

"Why don't you come inside and enjoy the party once more, Santana, Blaine?" Marcus suggested, gesturing inside where nothing had changed, everyone was still dancing, smiling, and not having a care in the world.

"I really rather not." Santana said, turning around to face his friend's father.

"Well, you really have no choice. I'm sure they have noticed by now that the main celebrant has disappeared." Marcus said.

"I'm sure they noticed." Blaine said sarcastically.

They all glanced back inside and chuckled.

"Well, come on, your mother wants you to be there to cut the cake."

Blaine groaned and the other two laughed. They made their way back inside and just for that tiny moment, their troubles had been forgotten.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**_ As I said... I'M REALLY SORRY GUYS! ESPECIALLY TO THE PEOPLE WHO READ _"It's Different"_!

I had to get this out of my mind before I was able to continue typing the next chapter (For _"It's Different") _

To be honest with you, I have 185 words right now. But I have a bunch of ideas coming to my mind (now that it's clear) right now and I'm ready to type another 500 or so words.

And I know I said I'll update as soon as I reach 50 reviews but YOU GUYS ARE TROLLS! Mind you, I love it but you guys are scaring me xD

That being said, let's move on to this story.

I know the first chapter is very vague (and short), as is the summary. But I'll explain more as the story goes. The second chapter may help. Or the third, actually xD

Oh yeah, and the rating may go up as it goes. (No smut), I can't write it xDD

Please, stay with me (and my muse) and don't forget to _**READ AND REVIEW**_! :D

_**- Morgana Grace** _


	2. Chapter 2: 2 Years Later

_**A/N:** _Well, this took forever... (bites lip) I'm so sorry (says meekly). Forgive me...? I'm going camping for a week so NO INTERNET, cause I'm COOL, and I'm from the WILDERNESS. (LIES LIES LIES).

Anyway, it's not like that's gonna make an impact. The distance between my updates are probably longer than the Great Wall of China.

But, you know, I'm just saying, just in case you guys care... I'm sure you don't but (Darren Shrug).

Oh and any mistakes are mine. Because I'm alone in this world of fanfiction (sings off key).

_**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing. Like, absolutely nothing. Literally.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 2: 2 years later.<strong>_

It had been two years since the event had happened. Two years where Blaine had suffered, mourning his loss. Two years where his family and his friends had tried to get him out of depression.

Two years had passed.

And he still couldn't forget him.

Well, he didn't really expect to forget about him. Not when they had known each other for about eleven years—probably more, it didn't matter.

Now he here was, sitting on the window pane, looking out, watching people pass by. He almost laughed at the ironic scene he must be making, sitting and looking out. It reminded him of one of those dramatic scenes in movies.

"Hey, Blaine!"

The doors flew open and a small group of boys came in, stretching their arms above their heads and yawning.

"Hello, Nick, Wes, David." Blaine said without turning back.

"How are you this fine afternoon, my dear friend?"

Blaine didn't answer and the others, now used to their friend's ignorance, began to settle on the living room.

"I feel like going somewhere right now." David said, out of the blue.

"Me too." Wes agreed.

"Where would be the perfect place to go?"

"Hmm… Greece?"

"Japan?"

"Canada?"

After suggestions of many places, they finally settle into a contemplative silence.

Nick suddenly sat up, his eyes brightening before he shouted, "Paris!"

Blaine tensed. "No." He said.

"What?" Nick asked, confused as the others. They all turned to Blaine who hadn't move from his position by the window.

"No." Blaine repeated.

"Why not? Paris is great. We haven't been there since—"

"_No!" _Blaine snapped, standing up and turning to look at the others, his eyes flashing.

The guys were all too stunned to say anything, and they just watched as their friend slowly began to calm down.

"Just—no, not Paris, alright?" He said, and before they could reply, Blaine had strode over to the door, opened and walked out, the door slamming shut behind him.

Nick, Wes, and David all looked at each other with wide eyes.

"What the hell was that for?" Nick asked.

"No idea." Wes answered.

"Do you think it had something to do with—"

"Hello, boys." A feminine voice interrupted from the doorway.

"Hello, Rachel." David greeted.

"So why did I just see Blaine slam the door of his bedroom?"

"No idea," Wes replied, still looking confused. "We were just talking about places we could go to and Nick mentioned Paris."

Understanding suddenly dawned on Rachel's face. She glanced back at the hall and shook her head sadly.

"Paris was—_is _Kurt's favorite." Rachel said quietly, quickly correcting herself.

She turned back around and walked out the room, heading the same direction Blaine went.

* * *

><p>Blaine was strumming his guitar when a knock on the door came. Rachel's head popped in before fully entering the room, closing the door quietly behind her.<p>

"Hey," She said, approaching the bed and sitting on the edge. "I heard what happened."

"That was unnecessary of me to do." Blaine said, laying his guitar beside him and hugging his knees to his chest. "Memories just start to come whenever someone mentions something about him."

"It's not your fault." Rachel reached his knee with her hand, and squeezed reassuringly. "I sometimes get them too. I'm sure Santana, and Burt does as well."

"How—why—" He broke off, trying to speak his question right. "It's been two years, Rachel. Why haven't they found them yet?" He asked instead.

"I don't know." She answered honestly. "But we can't give up now—or _ever_. This is Kurt we're talking about, I'm sure he wouldn't give up if he was in our position."

"I would've been happier if it was me in Kurt's position." Blaine muttered.

"Hey, now," Rachel admonished, frowning slightly. "Kurt would be mad if he heard you say that, alright? So stop with the _it-should've-been-me-it's-my-fault_ thoughts."

"Fine," Blaine agreed, the corners of his lips tilting upwards a little.

Rachel smiled, patted his knee and stood up. "C'mon, let's go outside. You've been cooped up in this house for too much."

When she saw Blaine about to argue, she pulled him up from the bed and said, "I won't take no for an answer."

* * *

><p>"You didn't have to chase the kids while holding ice cream!" Rachel said, laughing.<p>

"Yeah, well, it was fun." Blaine argued weakly, holding his stomach and chuckling slightly.

Rachel hummed as she took out her set of keys and unlocked the door. They both entered and looked around, noticing the quietness.

"It seems eerily quiet for a Friday night, don't you think?" Blaine asked Rachel quietly.

"Yeah," She answered just as quietly.

They went to the living room only to find the Andersons, Hudson-Hummels, Lopez Family, Berry Family, Pierce Family and a bunch of their close friends and relatives staring at them.

"What did we miss?" Rachel asked curiously with a touch of anxiety.

"They found it." Santana whispered, clutching what looked like a photograph in her hand.

"Found what?" Blaine asked this time, fear seeping in his tone.

Had they found them? Did they find some clues? Or—_oh God_, what if they found their _bodies_?

Blaine quickly looked to his right when he felt a slight pressure to his shoulders. Rachel was calmly but pointedly staring at the crowd with her left hand squeezing his shoulder, anchoring him.

"Found what?" Rachel repeated steadily.

Burt stood up from his armchair, looking worn and tired. He walked and stopped a few inches from them.

"They found the men who kidnap them."

"What about—" Blaine started, leaning forward.

"No," Burt cut him off, shaking his head. "They didn't find them. But they did find this picture of them."

Burt glanced back at Santana who nodded, stepping forward beside him. She slowly handed them said picture and Blaine reached for it with shaking hands.

It was a picture of Brittany and Kurt taken back at 2007 when they were twelve years old, with a big red _X _crossed in front of it. The young face of his love made him take a sharp intake of breath, his hands shook non-stop.

A tan hand made its way to his to take the picture from his grip. Blaine looked up at Santana and saw her looking at him blankly.

"It's okay," She simply said, passing the picture to Burt who took it. Santana took Blaine's hands into hers and gripped them tightly. "It's okay," She repeated.

"Are you sure it was the right guys?" Rachel asked, focusing on Burt.

"Yeah, they were the same guys who were there the night they were taken. Santana saw them, so she knows what they look like."

"Where were they found?"

"Somewhere in Scotland, apparently exchanging weapons and drugs." Burt sighed, rubbing his hand with his forehead.

"What does that have to do with Kurt and Brittany?" Rachel asked, frowning.

"Nothing, that's the thing. When we asked them where they were, they seemed to forget about them—"

"But then this one guy seemed to remember them and all of a sudden he had this horrified and scared face." Finn finished for Burt, standing up and uncrossing his arms.

The room was silent for a long time filled with heavy thoughts and worries.

Marcus sighed, putting his arm around his wife's shoulder. "We should get to bed. It's getting really late now."

Blaine and Santana were about to argue when Burt agreed.

"Good idea. We'll have more time to think about things tomorrow."

At that moment, when everyone was whispering quietly amongst themselves, preparing to go to bed, the hole in Blaine's heart seemed to rip even more, filling itself with nightmares and sadness.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**_For those people who are waiting for It's Different, or The Masked Stranger: I'm about halfway done It's Different, and I may cut it in half when I'm done because it's so long, like really long. I never expected it to be _that _long.

The Masked Stranger is still in hiatus, I'm working on it, worry not!

Oh, hey! Next chapter is (drum rolls!) _**(SPOILER ALERT)**_where we'll see Kurt and Brittany! Woot Woot!

_- **Morgana Grace  
><strong>_


End file.
